


The Monster Under The Bed And The Demons That Follow.

by abgrn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Family Issues, Father Figures, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abgrn/pseuds/abgrn
Summary: Let's face it John Winchester will never win a father-of-the-year award and Bobby knows it. When doing what he can from the sidelines isn't enough anymore what will he have to do to protect his boys?  Side with the very thing he hates? (What kind of demon name is Crowley) And what's this about an "angel" Castiel?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys I realise abusive John is probably so overdone but I wanted to give it a shot. Enjoy and tell me what you think.

Dean clutched Sam to his side with one arm, the other around a whimpering Adam. John's heavy footsteps thumped on the shoddy motel carpet and Sams tearful expression mirrored Adams equally terrified one. Deans thoughts were racing, frantically trying to find a way to divert John's from his brothers to him. 

"De...." Adam whispered."De I'm hungry."  
"I know Adam, I know. I'll try get us s'mthin to eat in a bit ok?" He barely witheld a shudder. Last time he'd been caught stealing food ......

"De'n" Johns drunken slur reached their door, the flimsy piece of wood being the only thing between him and his fathers wrath. Pushing both his brothers behind him, Dean stood to face Johns drunken, unfocused glare. Calloused, gun-worn hands yanked Dean out by the collar and threw him onto the dingy motel floor.

Lash. 1,2. Lash.1,2.Lash. His father was creating a rhythm today. How quaint. Oh no, there it went. With a steel-toed kick too. Hmm that was gonna bruise.  
Deans blasé attitude disappeared pretty quick with a surprise crush of his middle fingers. He cried out, immediately cursing his mistake that led John to yell "Soldiers don't cry you worthless brat! At least your mother thought the other one was worth dying for....but you....you're nothing."  
Dean couldn't even be bothered to deny it anymore.

Lyng in the shower of blood pooling down his back, he was vaguely aware of John saying something about a .....blob? Nono Bobby! Oh God Bobby! The thought was almost enough to spur Dean off the ground. His wrists and legs didn't agree and he flopped back down into the growing stain of blood.  
"De? You ok?"  
"Fine Sammy. Just peachy. Tell Addie to pack. We're off to see the grump."  
Sam whisper-cheered (he didn't dare show the slightest glimpse of joy with John passed out on the couch) and scurried to the room to pack their tatty clothes into their equally tatty bag. 

Crouching on the leather seats of the rumbling Impala, once again holding his brothers close, Dean watched John. He was waiting. Waiting for John to turn the car around and laugh at the devastation on their faces which would lead to Dean being asked if he thought Bobby was a better father then John. And Dean would quietly say "No sir" because if he didn't John would 'slip up' and hurt Sam. Or Addie. Whoever was closer. So he played. He played the rules of the game. He knew them very well now.  
Seeing the dirt road leading up to Singers Motors Deans heart soared. His heaven on earth. Finally. He prayed to every angel in heaven that John would dump them and run. Zachariah, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel....he remembered his mom would say "The angels will always watch you, my special boy" and tickle him for every name. As he recited them again a voice, young, barely older than Deans own, added to his list  
"Castiel".  
Shaking his head, he knew there really was no angel Castiel, maybe John had given him another concussion?  
He trudged from the car gripping both his brothers skinny arms before walking through the maze that was the mass of cars Booby owned. All the while feeling Johns burning gaze on his back. How sad was that? His own fathers very eyes burned him. 

It didn't matter. He was safe now. Safe with Bobby if only for a while. John would be back. He always was. Just like the frost in winter, the rain in summer, the night terrors that plagued Adam every night.The monster under your bed. But for a while they were safe with Bobby.They were always safe  
With Bobby.

\--------------------------------------  
Hey guys i was wondering if anyone would be interested in more of this, I have a brief plan so if anyone is interested I can write more. Tell me what you think, thanks :)


	2. Holy Heaven!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup. So I've been sitting on this for a while and decided to post it on a whim. Hoping ye like it, dearest readers.

“Dean.” Bobby’s gruff voice, sadness-tinged, caught the green-eyed boys attention. His fingers paused in the act of tearing his roll into two pieces for each of his brothers.  
“The boys have their own.” Bobby pressed gently, his forehead creasing as he looked at Deans gaunt cheeks.  
“Oh.” Was all Dean said, while Sam scooted closer to him sensing his distress. Adam licked the stream of mayonnaise that had reached his bony wrist with a grin. Bobby was going to kill John Winchester. With a stick. Or with a gun. He took a swig of his coffee and set to creating himself a false identity-one where he just so happened to be Mary Campbell’s brother. Bobby had done his research. He knew what was up.

 

Shielding the laptop screen from the boys until he was done, Bobby clicked away at the keys, clapping the small buttons in and out of their space. He finished the same time the boys did, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Dean was still hungry.  
Bobby slid the scuffed laptop over to Sam with a fond knowing grin as Sam perked up at the thought of more knowledge as Bobby gave Dean The Nod. The one that said ‘we need to talk so put on one of those blasted Disney cartoons for Adam ‘cause you’re in a helluva lot a trouble son.’ That nod.  
Dean narrowed his eyes and shooed Adam over to the couch and patiently began to teach Adam how to correctly manoeuvre the clunky remote control in his weak, fumbling hands. Dean followed Bobby out to the scrap-yard, kicking a license plate out of the way as he walked. It scattered across the vast wasteland with a piercing scratch and was momentarily enough to distract Dean from a sombre, awaiting Bobby.

“Dean yer Daddy-”

Dean closed his eyes and flinched away. “Please Bobby. Don’t-don’t kick up about it now. We’ll manage, we always do.” Big, almost pretty, green eyes begged Bobby for his silence in a way that would have any teenage girl crying for him. But Bobby was no teenage girl.  
“You can’t stay with him son, it’s not safe. Look at yourself Dean! The amount of pain you’re in, you damn idjit.”  
“It’s fine.” Dean tilted his chin defiantly. “I can handle it.”  
“Can they?” Bobby asked quietly, trying a different tactic. It didn’t quite go the way he wanted.

Dean saw red. How dare he? Bobby didn’t understand....he couldn’t....why did he want to help now, just let things remain as they were, Dean could get Sam and Adam safe, he had to for who else would? Stress trembled in strong, thin shoulders and Dean roared in rage, pulling his gun from his worn back pocket and near shoving it in Bobby’s face. He fired shot after shot at a beat up Chevy (not dissimilar to Johns) behind Bobby’s head before turning it with a faux calm towards Bobby.  
“Think about this Dean.” The soft voice that had added to his list of angels piped up, all holy like, with words of caution.

“Fuck off.” Dean snarled. Shit. Shouldn’t be talking to the black-eyed bastard. “Put it down, Dean.” Bobby ordered before opening his arms in a placating gesture.  
“Listen to him Dean.” “What are you? Get out of my head!” Dean yelled, feeling near breaking point. He couldn’t afford to be insane or possessed or whatever this happened to be. He studiously ignored the voice protesting that it was “Castiel, an angel of the Lord . I mean you no harm.”

When this registered in the tired boys mind, he was momentarily stunned, frozen in utter confusion. Bobby seized this chance to lean forward and pull Dean, by his neck, into a warm all-encasing hug. The Winchester fought for a minute before a sob escaped his throat before his breath hitched in fear. If John saw him cry....“He ain’t here, son, it’s gonna be alright, everythin’s gonna be alright.”              

Dean let Bobby wrap his arms around him, avoiding the injured parts of his body, and spluttered when Bobby fluttered holy water into his face. Bobby grinned, pleased to confirm that Dean was not, in fact, possessed.  
Bobby led Dean inside, the comfortable silence only broken when Dean asked quietly, his voice as small of his self esteem “Bobby...do you believe in angels?”


End file.
